


Shattered

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, mentions of dorian's past, mentions of kinloch, mentions of possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: Okay, so there wasthis post of a marvellous piece of artworkgoing around and I wrote this fic for it.In the aftermath of a Venatori attack on Skyhold, Cullen is shattered by the experience. Dorian, however, is on hand to put him back together.It’s a bit angsty but ends a bit fluffy. Because, you know, it’s me writing this. :D I am unrepentant!!!Oh, there is some reflection on some nasty comments.





	Shattered

Cullen shivered where he was sitting, hunched over and arms wrapped around his legs, in the strange dusty little study in the depths of Skyhold. It wasn’t the cold that made him shiver but the memories that were crowding his head, making him feel exhausted and miserable. Memories that had made him forgo the usual trappings he wore that made him the Commander of the Inquisition forces. Instead he was wearing simple breeches and a shirt, with only the warm furred coat Josephine had gifted to him to ward off the cold. 

He knew he should be upstairs, helping the Inquisitor and the others clean up the aftermath of the Venatori blood mages’ attack. He was, after all, uniquely suited to handle that. Not that he’d handled it well at all last time but at least he knew the unique sort of traps and mess that would be left behind. But… so too did Leliana after a fashion and he was feeling wretched enough to leave it to her.

_It’s a pity your father didn’t succeed. You might have actually been worth something._

He shuddered and bowed his head until his forehead rested against his knees at the memory of those words being spat out of his mouth by the demon. The feeling of being _invaded_ by the demon, being _possessed_ , used as a mere puppet was horrifying enough given his past but the vitriol it had spewed out of his mouth, the hateful words, the bile, all directed at Dorian, the man he loved… it had been _that_ which had ultimately made him vomit once he was free, not the possession.

_Did you really think anyone here respects you? Likes you? Thinks you’re of any use at all? If you left, no one would miss you._

Something that was half a gasp, half a sob escaped from him. Oh, Dorian had laughed off all the comments but Cullen wasn’t a fool. The demon had taken all the secrets Dorian had entrusted him with and used them against his lover, sent them flying at Dorian like shards of malice, aimed to hurt and shred and tear Dorian apart. 

As sharp as the knife he’d been holding to Dorian’s throat.

_You flaunt your deviant behaviour like you’re proud of it. You disgust everyone._

He shuddered again and now tears _did_ fall from his eyes to dampen the fabric of his shirt. Dorian had laughed when he’d forced him to his knees, tossing out lewd comments and encouragement that would ordinarily have made Cullen blush. He hadn’t even stopped when Cullen had pulled out his knife and held the oh-so-sharp blade against his throat. Trapped inside his own mind but left fully aware by the cruelty of the demon, Cullen had been screaming his despair and defiance and fear for his lover.

_Did you really think I could ever love someone like you?_

Dorian hadn’t shown a single flicker of fear, of anger, of hatred on his face or in his eyes but Cullen didn’t… _couldn’t_ … believe it. How he must _hate_ Cullen now. He must _surely_ think that the demon got those things from Cullen himself. The bravado had been for show, to allow Dorian time to cast his spells to evict the demon from Cullen. The mage had certainly left quickly enough afterwards. There had been others he’d needed to help, of course… far too many really… but he’d hurried off so quickly, without a single glance back at Cullen and he hadn’t come back, not even when it was all over. 

Cullen gave in to his despair and misery and let his tears flow, the occasional sob escaping him. He could never… _would_ never… do this where his people could see him. They needed to see him stand strong and tall as their _Commander_. They didn’t need to see his weakness and shame. But he needed this. He needed the time to piece his shattered mind, heart and soul back together so that he could actually _be_ their Commander. Because he couldn’t do that right now.

He was so lost in his misery that he didn’t hear the door open and close or the footsteps approach him. It wasn’t until there were arms wrapped around him and he was being pulled close to a warm, oh-so-familiar body that he was jolted out of his wretchedness. But it was the distinct and beloved scent of exotic spices, old books and the heat of flame that made him raise his head at stare at his lover, who was looking back at him with open worry and concern.

“Amatus,” Dorian began but Cullen didn’t let him finish.

“Forgive me, Dorian. I didn’t… the demon… what it said… you have to know I didn’t mean any of it. It wasn’t me. I am so sorry. Please…”

Dorian placing a finger over his mouth silenced him and he stared at the mage with pleading eyes.

“Amatus. My _dearest_ Cullen. I _know_ that. I _know_ it wasn’t you.” He saw Cullen’s expression change and suddenly all four fingers were keeping Cullen’s mouth firmly closed. “It wasn’t you. I knew that at the time. I know it now. You would never say such things to me.”

His voice was firm and solid, absolute in his belief in Cullen. It settled something within Cullen but still…

“D’r’n,” he began, his voice muffled by the fingers that were still over his mouth.

“ _No_ , Cullen,” Dorian said firmly. “You are _not_ to blame for what the demon said. Yes, it drew that information from your mind but it was only there because _I_ told you. I _wanted_ to tell you that. I wanted you to know that part of me, just as you trusted me with the darker parts of you.”

Cullen pulled Dorian’s hand away from his mouth. “Dorian…”

“If it would make you feel any better, I could make fun of that furred monstrosity you insist on wearing,” Dorian offered with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“ _Dorian_ ,” Cullen said with a weary firmness. “You can’t just ignore this.”

Dorian softened and sighed, cupping Cullen’s cheek with his hand. “I’m not, Amatus. Do you think I wasn’t terrified when I realised what was going on? When I realised that _you_ had been possessed? I knew the demon would do its best to drive a wedge between us and I refuse to let that happen.” He gave a wry chuckle. “Besides, what did it say that I hadn’t heard before? It didn’t even have the intelligence to be original.”

Dorian fell silent for a moment before continuing, “Besides, I don’t much care about what it said to me. Meaningless, empty words. I am far more concerned about you, Amatus. Your nightmare come true.”

Cullen shuddered and let his head drop again and when Dorian drew him into his embrace, he didn’t fight it. He’d been trying not to think about that ever since Dorian had expelled the demon from him. That what had happened had been his worst fear from his days as a prisoner at Kinloch. He hadn’t _wanted_ to think about it so he’d concentrated on Dorian and that part of it. A sob escaped him and he curled into Dorian as the full measure of what had happened thundered through his mind and that feeling, that slick sickening ooze of the demon possessing him, came back to him full force.

He couldn’t stop the tears that followed that sob and as Dorian gathered him close, murmuring soft words of comfort, he didn’t want to. For once, he let himself go and buried his face in the crook of Dorian’s neck and let himself be held. He didn’t know how long he cried as Dorian whispered and crooned soft nothings to him but when the tears finally tapered off, he felt exhausted but… good. Like he’d been washed clean of not only what had just happened but of the filth of Kinloch as well. Still, there was one question that lingered in his mind…

“Why?” he whispered.

Dorian raised his head, cradling his face with one hand, his thumb brushing soothingly along his cheek as he looked at him with a confused frown. “Why what, Amatus?”

Cullen swallowed. “Why was the demon able to possess me now but not… back then?”

Dorian’s face cleared. “Because it took you this time. Because of what the blood mages did, the demon didn’t need your permission or assent, it could just _take_. It’s a nasty old trick that isn’t used very often because it makes even the mage casting the spell vulnerable. But also… last time, they _wanted_ you to give in of your own free will. They wanted you to fall willingly into corruption, to make it all the sweeter for them. There was no _sport_ in it for them to simply _take_. They must have hated that you were so strong. This time, you were never given the chance to show them your strength.” Cullen started and Dorian smiled as he continued, “Because you would have. Just as Cassandra would have. And Blackwall. And the Iron Bull. All of you fell to possession not because you lacked strength, not because you were weak, but because the Venatori were cowards and were not going to take the chance that you would resist and face them.”

Cullen shuddered and slumped against Dorian again. There was no dissembling or hesitation in Dorian’s words. They were blunt and truthful and Cullen let himself believe.

“Now, come, Amatus,” Dorian said, raising Cullen’s head again and giving him an affectionate peck on the lips. “You need sleep and I promised Cassandra I would see that you got it.”

Cullen frowned as he took in the lines of strain around Dorian’s eyes and the weariness that lurked in them as well. “I think you need sleep as well,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from his tears.

Dorian smiled something soft and sweet and a little wry. “Yes, I do. So, come. Your bed is far more comfortable and much less cobwebby that this place.” He glanced over at the bookshelves. “Though I am coming back here soon. Those books should be in the library, not here, mouldering away.”

Cullen chuckled softly at that and let Dorian pull him to his feet. He leaned into his lover, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a proper kiss. Dorian pretended to scoff at him but Cullen saw the flush of pink in his cheeks and the happiness in his eyes when he pulled away and started dragging him towards the door.

“Bed. Rest,” Dorian said sternly. “And more talking later. Don’t think I’m going to let even a second of this fester in that brain of yours. I know what you’re like and I won’t have it.”

Cullen ducked his head and laughed softly as he let himself be dragged towards his office and bedroom. Dorian was right. He was likely to find things to brood about if he was left to his own devices and as they headed through the kitchen towards the outside stairs, he thanked the Maker for bringing Dorian into his life.


End file.
